Drifting
by Vaetra
Summary: Mrs Lovett isn't feeling very well... somewhat fluffy oneshot. Sweenett, of course.


_This is just a fluffy little one-shot I wrote rather quickly. Maybe it's because I was feeling dizzy as well or something, but whatever. Read on!_

Her hand shook like a pale leaf in the breeze when she held it out in front of her. She watched it tremble with an odd can't of detachment, as though it wasn't really a part of her body. Mrs Lovett let her vision slide out of focus as another wave of dizziness broke over her. The hand she had been holding up for inspection dropped to grab the counter to prevent her from falling. 

Mrs Lovett knew she hadn't been taking very good care of herself lately. She stayed up into the small hours, grinding the bodies of Mr Todd's latest customers into food for his future ones, and even after she climbed into bed, she lay awake, staring at the ceiling, thinking only of her beloved barber pacing on the floor above her. She thought of him so much that on the rare occasions that her mind _was_ empty, Sweeney Todd would immediately fill it, her brain falling back into the unconscious rhythm of obsession. During the day, Mrs Lovett didn't eat much. There simply wasn't time; running around all day feeding others, she sometimes forgot to feed herself. She felt that she had been moving so fast for so long that when she stopped, everything around her continued to whiz by just as it had before- but perhaps this was just a result of her spinning head.

Scolding herself half-heartedly for indulging in self-pity, Mrs Lovett reached for a tray of meat pies, forgetting that she had just taken them hot out of the oven. The still-burning metal sent pain flaring in her fingertips and she dropped the tray, swearing. It clanged loudly on the floor, sending pies flying in all directions. With a groan, the baker half knelt, half fell onto the floor, intending to pick them up again. But as she sank down, the feeling of light-headedness intensified again, so Mrs Lovett just sat there on the floor with the somewhat sickening sensation of drifting away from her body. 

She was staring unseeingly at the floor, trying to master herself when a pair of booted feet made thief way into her field of vision. _Oh. Feet._ Mrs Lovett giggled weakly, but stopped abruptly when she saw that the feet belonged to none other than the man for whom she was constantly longing: Sweeney Todd. He must have heard the tray drop and come to see what made the noise. 

He stared down at his landlady, seated on the floor, surrounded by broken pies, giggling weakly to herself. "Mrs Lovett," he said in his darkly smooth growl of a voice. Mrs Lovett was spared the difficulty of craning her neck to peer up at him, for he knelt down beside her, bringing his face to eye level. 

"Yes?" she breathed, still feeling a bit faint.

"What are you doing?"

It occurred to her then how ridiculous she must look- sitting like a child on the floor, laughing at nothing. She scrambled to pick up the tray and began placing the pies back on it. "Oh! I just, er, dropped the tray, love. Really clumsy of me, don't know what I was- and now I have to clean this all up and…" she trailed off somewhat lamely.

Mr Todd's brow furrowed, and she wondered if he was angry with her. "D'you need some help?" He mumbled.

Gratitude welled in Mrs Lovett's eyes, but she managed to choke, "What? Oh, er- yes, I suppose so, love." He nodded wordlessly and began gathering up the pies from the dusty floor. Mrs Lovett tried to help him, she really did, but the feeling of weakness still hadn't left her, and her hands shook so that she only succeeded in dropping the pies as soon as she picked them up.

Mr Todd made a small sound of annoyance and pushed her hand aside to pick up what she'd dropped. A small gasp escaped her lips as his fingers brushed her skin. He looked up, his dark eyes unreadable. "What?"

Looking back, Mrs Lovett didn't know how she had been able to find the courage to do what she did next. Perhaps, she thought, she had been less afraid of kissing him than of what she thought might happen if she didn't. His lips anchored her, and her head stopped swimming. He took her burned fingers in his hands and she winced, but she was glad of the pain- it made her hands stop shaking. As they sat there on the floor, their eyes aligned, his breath soft on her face, Mrs Lovett understood. In her exhausted state, Mr Todd was all that kept her from drifting apart. 


End file.
